


Siwah

by fawatson



Category: Alexander Trilogy - Mary Renault
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the oracle said to Alexander at Siwah</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siwah

**Author's Note:**

> **Originally posted to:** author's personal LiveJournal on 17/01/2010 and crossposted to maryrenaultfics at LiveJournal on the same date.  
>  **Originally Written for:** Brigit’s Flame January Challenge – Week Two  
>  **Prompt:** Destiny  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit from them.  
>  **Author’s Note:** (1) In Ancient Greek mythology, Ananke (Goddess of Destiny) dictated all fate. Ananke was the mother of the three Moirae (the Fates): Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos (fathered by Zeus). Both Ananke and Clotho were depicted with spindles. There was a temple in Corinth dedicated to Ananke. (2) Early in his campaigns against the Persian Empire, Alexander consulted the oracle at Siwah where he was greeted as the son of Amon and rightful Pharaoh of Egypt. There is no record of the question he asked of the oracle, nor of the answer he received, though he is reported to have been pleased.

“You’re not quite what I was expecting,” remarked Alexander as he stepped through the doorway. 

“No?” Ananke turned away from the toddler whose napkin she was changing to look at the young man who had entered her chamber. “Well, I can’t help _that_. Your expectations are really none of _my_ business.” 

She turned back swiftly at the baby’s cry, and gave a little exasperated sound. The child had reached up to a spindle resting on the shelf above her and pricked herself. Ananke brought the injured finger to her lips, and pressed a swift kiss on it. “There, there - all better now. Leave that alone; you’ll get your own when you are old enough.” She chided her daughter gently, before picking her up and cradling her lovingly against her right shoulder as she turned to face Alexander. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Corinth?” he asked. 

“Aren’t _you_ supposed to be in Persia?” At Alexander’s look of surprise, she snapped, “Don’t you give me that look! Even Zeus pays me more respect than to barge into my chambers without any warning.” 

“Sorry; the head priest took one look at the way the god’s symbol was swinging out in the courtyard, and just ushered me through. Should I come back later?”

“You’re here now; we might as well get it over with. After all, if I send you away it will only delay matters even further; and it’s not as if you have all the time in the world.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Here,” Ananke said, as she handed her guest the baby. “You’d best amuse her while I have a look. No, _don’t_ handle her like that!” She pointed to an elaborately embroidered green silk cushion. “Sit on that and put her on your knee, while I look in the water.”

Feeling slightly stunned, Alexander sank to his knees on the floor and placed the child on the cushion. She promptly crawled back to him, pulled herself up, and began tugging his hair while chortling away to herself incomprehensibly. Bemused, he looked at the scrying pool before him; it reflected the image of a little girl braiding his locks. 

“Practicing again, Clotho?” Ananke beamed fondly at her daughter as she readied herself on the other side of the pool. “She is quite the prodigy. Right – I’m ready now.” With this she lifted her spindle and pulled a piece of wool from it which she tossed into the pool. “I suppose you have the usual question about your destiny?” 

“Yes....” The reply was polite but sounded uncertain. 

“Well?” Ananke’s voice was sharp. “What is it?” 

“It’s just that I didn’t expect you to have to look in the water like some oracle – not when you’re a goddess.” 

“Your expectations again - I thought we covered that one earlier. My guess is you thought you’d be meeting Amon, too.”

“Well, yes, actually. Now that you mention it: how is it that I’m seeing you – a _Greek_ goddess – in an Egyptian temple dedicated to Amon?” 

“He’s on leave.”

“Leave?” 

“Yes,” Ananke sounded decidedly grumpy. “Time out; he’s on a break. You know: a holiday from heaven.” 

“Where has he gone then?” 

There was a long pause before Ananke responded finally, in such a low voice that Alexander had to bend forward to hear. 

“If you must know, he’s you.”

“Me?” 

“Don’t look so surprised. You’ve always known Philip of Macedon wasn’t really your father. Amon decided he was tired of sitting back and watching everyone else have all the fun, so he embodied himself in you.” 

“I see,” said Alexander. He sat quietly contemplating his lap for a moment. _These hands..._ he thought. “What is my destiny, then?”

“I cannot answer that. I gave you your answer when you asked about Amon. Remember: one question per customer; that’s the rule.” 

Before he could say anything more: she, her child, the cushion, spindle and scrying pool had all disappeared and Alexander was left alone in a dusty empty acolyte’s cell.


End file.
